12. Chapter 12
Cody
Trembley. And Kincaid.
It was them this whole fucking time. Like I was some kind of joke.
I grab the hem of my jersey and yank it over my head, then wing it into the stall. Shoulder pads go next, Velcro ripping as I tear them off and slam them onto the bench.
This was supposed to be my year. First Team All?American.
Dominating on the ice. And those two giant psychos just blew a hole straight through it.
That asshole Trembley even had the nerve to call me cute in the handshake line.
Bet he thought I’d look away. I didn’t. And I didn't give them my hand either. If the refs hadn’t been watching, I probably would’ve spit in the motherfucker’s face.
I grab my water bottle and squeeze it until the cap pops off and water sprays across my lap. “Fuck!”
“You good, Jenkins?”
I glare at the freshman four stalls down, then flop onto the bench and run my fingers through my hair, tugging at the roots. Right now, I’m the farthest from okay I’ve ever been.
Kincaid’s hand is the one I humped for two seconds before blowing my load. Two seconds. Two goddamn seconds when I can go for rounds with anyone else.
I make sure of it.
Hockey and sex are where I bring my A game.
Usually.
But the list of shit I suck at keeps getting longer.
I tug harder on my hair until my scalp stings, my teeth grinding together until my temples ache.
Everyone else gets to subtract problems. I just keep adding them.
The locker room door bangs open. “Holy shit, you'll never guess—”
“Not in the mood, Doyle.”
“Bro, you don't—”
I whip my head in his direction. “Mason, just shut the fuck up.”
His upper lip curls back, right brow scrunching. “Seriously? Fuck you then. Figured you'd want to know Walsh's dad was choking the shit out of him in the hallway. Since he's your teammate and all.”
My head drops back, hitting the edge of the stall. The wood digs into my skull, and I close my eyes. “Shit. Is he okay?”
“Doubt it.”
The door opens again. Henneman comes through, nostrils flaring, a vein in his neck standing out. Never seen him so mad. He quickly strips out of his gear, not saying a word, then runs out of the locker room.
Must be bad if Henneman’s tearing out of here. Hope Walsh is ok.
Doyle looks at me, then higher, pointing at my eyebrow. “You should get that looked at.”
I swipe the back of my hand across it. Blood smears across my knuckles. “Trembley got a lucky shot.”
“Didn't look lucky from where I was sitting.” He pulls off his helmet and places it on the bench next to him. “What did he say to you anyway?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. I've seen you fight him before, and you've never—”
“Drop it,” I snarl.
He raises both hands. “Fine.”
I lean over and untie my laces. I’ve never lost it like that during a fight before. But no one has ever made a fool of me on the ice like the two Serpents.
“Cody, you gotta calm down, man. You’re gonna snap the laces.”
I toss my skates to the side, shove my feet into my slides, and rush out of the room before I’m fully out of my gear. Everyone in the lobby stares as I pass. Probably should’ve put a shirt on, but if that bus leaves—
Good, they’re still here.
The arena doors slide open, and I step outside, heading toward the tallest of the fucking Serpents. I yank a stick out of one of their players’ hands, close the distance, and swing it across the back of Kincaid’s legs.
He staggers forward, drops his bag, and then spins, his arm cocked. I stand there, unflinching. But he doesn’t throw the punch.
And it pisses me off.
“You think I’m some dumb fuck you can manipulate.” I toss the stick aside, then shove his chest with everything I have. “Well, I’m not.”
Someone nearby taunts. “Ohhh, someone's got a death wish.”
“Yeah, he does.” I swing, my fist connecting with Kincaid’s jaw. “Him and his motherfucking friend.”
I swing again, but this time he catches my wrist. So, I go to use the other hand. He grabs that one too. Then he backs me up against the stone wall of the arena, pinning my wrists above my head.
“You done?”
I spit in his face.
He blinks, then drags his cheek across his shoulder, wiping my spit away. His fingers tighten until pain shoots through both wrists. “Now you're done.”
“Not even close, you dickhead.” I yank at my arms and drive my knee up.
He shifts his hips into mine, pinning me completely, and then leans closer. “Already told you to quit thinking about hitting me in the cock.”
“I wasn’t thinking about it. I was doing it.”
“You were trying to. But didn’t succeed.” Atlas leans one shoulder against the wall, smiling as he looks between us. “For all the money this school has, you’d think they’d sell popcorn inside. I could use some right now. You two should see yourselves.”
“I hate you. Both of you. I’m not some weak link you can exploit so your dumbass team can finally beat us.” I thrash around, trying to yank my wrists free. “I’m not as stupid as everyone thinks.”
Atlas straightens, his smile vanishing. “We never said you were—”
“ You did.”
Fingers clamp around my jaw, forcing my head forward. Hunter stares down at me, unblinking. “Hockey has nothing to do with this.”
I huff. “Oh, really? So, what the fuck am I? Your source of entertainment?”
His grip tightens. “You’re ours .”
My lips part, and I blink rapidly, trying to refocus on his face.
He leans closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “You belong to us now, Little Titan. Get used to it.”
Heat crawls up my neck, and my breath catches.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Reed strolls over, rolling his eyes. “You two leave him alone and get the hell on the bus.”
“Come for the show, Coach?” Trembley grins. “I mean, didn’t you see how he swung at Hunter’s legs like he was trying to hit a grand slam. He threw his hips into it and everything.”
If anyone hit me like that, Doyle wouldn’t be joking about it. He’d be trying to pummel the guy’s skull into the ground. I look up at Kincaid. “You need better friends.”
The corner of his mouth twitches upward. Then he lets me go, grabs Trembley by the neck, and they head off toward the bus.
Reed cocks his head. “You good?”
I rub my wrists. “Yeah.”
He chuckles. “Kill is going to love this. Another Titan just like me. Mouthy and with a thing for Serpents.”
“I’m nothing like you, traitor.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” He walks off, but stops halfway, turning back to face me. “Oh, and give them shit. Lots of it. Like migraine-level worthy. Not sure what it is about that team, but they really love it.”
“Whatever.” I make my way back inside.
Like I need Reed’s advice. I have absolutely zero fucking interest in those two assholes. They can drop dead for all I care.
Except my cup suddenly feels too tight. Too uncomfortable. “ Oh, come on. ”
I can’t be hard. Not again. Not because of them.
But I am.
And this time I wasn’t afraid. Wasn’t being chased.
“Goddammit.”
I drag both hands down my face and pull in a breath so deep my ribs ache. It’s always been girls. But am I . . . Am I into guys too?
Fuck.
I turn and look through the glass doors at the bus pulling away from the curb. My abs clench as a hot throb rolls through my groin, my balls drawing tight.
No.
It’s them.
I’m . . . I’m into them .
Fuck my life.